Classic Poem

King Cormac had affianced his daughter Grania to Finn, son of Cumhal. In addition to his warlike accomplishments, Finn was reported to have obtained the gifts of poetry, second-sight, and healing in the manner referred to below. His age and aspect proved displeasing to Grania. She threw herself on the gallantry of Dermid, the handsomest of Finn's attendant warriors, and induced him reluctantly to fly with her. In the course of their wanderings, Dermid, having pursued a wild boar, met the fate of Adonis, who appears to have been his prototype in the Celtic imagination. Finn, arriving on the scene just before his rival's death, gives occasion to the most pathetic passage of the tale It is from this Dermid that Highland tradition draws the genealogy of the clan Campbell.
Finn on the mountain found the mangled man,
The slain boar by him. " Dermid, " said the king,
" It likes me well at last to see thee thus.
This only grieves me, that the woman-kind
Of Erin are not also looking on:
Such sight were wholesome for the wanton eyes
So oft enamour'd of that specious form:
Beauty to foulness, strength to weakness turn'd. "
" Yet in thy power, if only in thy will,
Lies it, oh Finn, even yet to heal me. "
" How? "

" Feign not the show of ignorance, nor deem
I know not of the virtues which thy hand
Drew from that fairy's half-discover'd hall,
Who bore her silver tankard from the fount,
So closely followed, that ere yet the door
Could close upon her steps, one arm was in;
Wherewith, though seeing nought, yet touching all,
Thou grasped'st half the spiritual world;
Withdrawing a heap'd handful of its gifts, —

Healing, and sight prophetic, and the power
Divine of poesy: but healing most
Abides within its hollow: — virtue such
That but so much of water as might wet
These lips, in that hand brought, would make me whole.
Finn, from the fountain fetch me in thy palms
A draught of water, and I yet shall live. "

" How at these hands canst thou demand thy life,
Who took'st my joy of life? "
" She loved thee not:
Me she did love and doth; and were she here
She would so plead with thee, that, for her sake,
Thou wouldst forgive us both, and bid me live. "

" I was a man had spent my prime of years
In war and council, little bless'd with love;
Though poesy was mine, and, in my hour,
The seer's burthen not desirable;
And now at last had thought to have man's share
Of marriage blessings; and the King supreme,
Cormac, had pledged his only daughter mine;
When thou, with those pernicious beauty-gifts,
The flashing white tusk there hath somewhat spoil'd,
Didst win her to desert her father's house,
And roam the wilds with thee. "
" It was herself,
Grania, the Princess, put me in the bonds
Of holy chivalry to share her flight.
" Behold," she said, " he is an aged man,
(And so thou art, for years will come to all;)
And I, so young; and at the Beltane games
When Carbry Liffacher did play the men
Of Brea, I, unseen, saw thee snatch a hurl,
And thrice on Tara's champions win the goal;
And gave thee love that day, and still will give."
So she herself avow'd. Resolve me, Finn,
For thou art just, could youthful warrior, sworn
To maiden's service, have done else than I?
No: hate me not — restore me — give me drink. "

" I will not. "
" Nay, but, Finn, thou hadst not said
" I will not," though I'd ask'd a greater boon,
That night we supped in Breendacoga's lodge.
Remember: we were faint and hunger-starved
From three days' flight; and even as on the board
They placed the viands, and my hand went forth
To raise the wine-cup, thou, more quick of ear,
O'erheardst the stealthy leaguer set without;
And yet should'st eat or perish. Then 'twas I,
Fasting, that made the sally; and 'twas I,
Fasting, that made the circuit of the court;
Three times I cours'd it, darkling, round and round,
From whence returning, when I brought thee in
The three lopp'd heads of them that lurk'd without —
Thou hadst not then, refresh'd and grateful, said
" I will not," had I ask'd thee, " Give me drink." "

" There springs no water on this summit bald "

" Nine paces from the spot thou standest on,
The well-eye — well thou knowest it — bubbles clear. "
Abash'd, reluctant, to the bubbling well
Went Finn, and scoop'd the water in his palms;
Wherewith returning, half-way, came the thought
Of Grania, and he let the water spill.

" Ah me, " said Dermid, " hast thou then forgot
Thy warrior-art that oft, when helms were split,
And buckler-bosses shatter'd by the spear,
Has satisfied the thirst of wounded men?
Ah, Finn, these hands of thine were not so slack
That night, when, captured by the king of Thule,
Thou layest in bonds within the temple gate
Waiting for morning, till the observant king
Should to his sun-god make thee sacrifice.
Close-pack'd thy fingers then, thong-drawn and squeezed,
The blood-drops oozing under every nail,
When, like a shadow, through the sleeping priests
Came I, and loos'd thee: and the hierophant
At day-dawn coming, on the altar-step,
Instead of victim straighten'd to his knife,
Two warriors found, erect, for battle arm'd. "

Again abash'd, reluctant to the well
Went Finn, and scoop'd the water in his palms,
Wherewith returning, half-way, came the thought
That wrench'd him; and the shaken water spill'd.

" False one, thou didst it purposely! I swear
I saw thee, though mine eyes do fast grow dim.
Ah me, how much imperfect still is man!
Yet such were not the act of Him, whom once
On this same mountain, as we sat at eve —
Thou yet mayst see the knoll that was our couch,
A stone's throw from the spot where now I lie —
Thou showedst me, shuddering, when the seer's fit,
Sudden and cold as hail, assail'd thy soul
In vision of that Just One crucified
For all men's pardoning, which, once again,
Thou sawest, with Cormac, struck in Rosnaree. "

Finn trembled; and a third time to the well
Went straight, and scooped the water in his palms;
Wherewith in haste half-way return'd, he saw
A smile on Dermid's face relax'd in death.